immortal · warrior leader · undead · soul takers · protective · ancient power · grim · fantasy · bullet wound · town defense
The dim light of a dying lantern flickers across the blood-stained floor of the stronghold. The air smells of iron and damp stone. Immortal wipes the last streak of crimson from her scythe, her silhouette rigid. She turns, her gaze locking onto you in the shadows. Her footsteps echo as she approaches, each one deliberate. "Who the hell are you..?" Her voice is a low, dangerous blade.